"You've been struck," Zechs called out his lie bluntly, seeing the tension mirrored in Eren. He had to do something to help him - protect him, shelter him. Take his body in hand, claim his mouth, find what he needed - Zechs pushed his baser natures away with a click of his jaw.
And then Eren held out his hand.
Zechs debated for a longer than needed moment, before taking it - his grip calloused, firm, drawing them close together. Just so he could follow him, surely. But even this faintest of contact just was a match close to gasoline, needing only fumes to spark.
"Inside," Zechs agreed, but his voice was nearly a growl. "Now."
Eren just nods. It's not like he could easily deny it, after all.
He finds himself just staring at Zechs for that long moment before Zechs takes his hand, thinking about how he should have been more forward, should have just grabbed hold, should have offered his mouth and not his hand, should have —
Zechs actually takes his hand though and he's relieved about it.
"Inside," he echoes.
Folkmore and its magic do them a favour. They end up not having to walk far to get to Eren's house — his old one, not the one he got shoved into with Baphomet. It's still raining here too for some reason but at least it's private.
He doesn't waste time opening the door, though he has to let go for a second to do it, then turns to pull Zechs inside with him.
When Eren released his hand to open the door - Zechs nearly, nearly reached to take a hold of him again. Frankly, his hunger for this contact with a stranger deeply disturbed him, even frightened him. What was he capable of in this state? Was he safe? He'd already harmed enough people when in a more (or less) rational state of mind -
- So he flinched back when Eren reached again. There's a faint tremor, though, in his frame. Like a cat readying itself to pounce.
"You're safer in there without me," Zechs warned in a low, dangerous tone. "If I follow you - I don't want something to happen that you'll regret."
Eren might laugh if he still did that. As it is, he just manages to look slightly amused through his wide-eyed hunger.
"There is nothing you can do that I'll regret," he says, reckless but meaning it. What could possibly happen? Pain? He's not a stranger to pain and he likes it anyway. He can heal from basically any injury. And he knows how to say no.
But he desperately wants to say yes.
He tugs at Zech's hand again, afraid to lose the contact, to be alone with this need.
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dreamsofwings) wrote2020-11-19 01:04 pm
no subject
And then Eren held out his hand.
Zechs debated for a longer than needed moment, before taking it - his grip calloused, firm, drawing them close together. Just so he could follow him, surely. But even this faintest of contact just was a match close to gasoline, needing only fumes to spark.
"Inside," Zechs agreed, but his voice was nearly a growl. "Now."
no subject
He finds himself just staring at Zechs for that long moment before Zechs takes his hand, thinking about how he should have been more forward, should have just grabbed hold, should have offered his mouth and not his hand, should have —
Zechs actually takes his hand though and he's relieved about it.
"Inside," he echoes.
Folkmore and its magic do them a favour. They end up not having to walk far to get to Eren's house — his old one, not the one he got shoved into with Baphomet. It's still raining here too for some reason but at least it's private.
He doesn't waste time opening the door, though he has to let go for a second to do it, then turns to pull Zechs inside with him.
no subject
- So he flinched back when Eren reached again. There's a faint tremor, though, in his frame. Like a cat readying itself to pounce.
"You're safer in there without me," Zechs warned in a low, dangerous tone. "If I follow you - I don't want something to happen that you'll regret."
no subject
"There is nothing you can do that I'll regret," he says, reckless but meaning it. What could possibly happen? Pain? He's not a stranger to pain and he likes it anyway. He can heal from basically any injury. And he knows how to say no.
But he desperately wants to say yes.
He tugs at Zech's hand again, afraid to lose the contact, to be alone with this need.